A Modern Day Gemma Doyle
by ChloeMay
Summary: Gemma Doyle, a modern day girl, who has trouble fitting in at her new school due to her mothers death and her intrest in cars and music and the mysterious Indian boy who has been stalking her since her mothers death. Title and Rating may change.


A Modern Day Gemma Doyle

July 21, 2009

"Mother, where are you?" I shout. Servants look up and stared,beseeching me for putting mother in such a foul mood, pointing wide eyed towards the kitchen. You could hear the rattling of pots and pans from the end of the hallway. She's still quite mad since our argument this morning. I walk in hoping she'll not be mad at me still but at something else, Mother and I used to never argue but lately that is all we do, over every tiniest detail. I'm quiet watching for I do not want to interrupt her cooking.

Mother even in her tight lipped fury is beautiful. Her red gold curls pulled back in a ribbon, curls loose and wavy while mine were like Medusa's. Her usual dress traded in for an old pair of faded pants and a stained apron. Bright green eyes bright and witty while mine disturbed each and every soul that looked straight into them.

"What do you want Gemma, dear?" she asks without looking up, huffing and puffing do to her pounding out dough.

"I need to go to town."

"You need parts for that car of yours, don't you..."

"Mother, please, I need a new intake manifold, 'cause it's leaking anti-freeze."

"Well that's not my problem now is it."

"But mother that's not fair..." She cut me off sharply.

"No buts, we will be going to Mrs. Tabbots in an hour, so get dressed and then maybe if you behave we will pick up that manifold thing of yours."

I bolt up the stairs to my room, mother yelling up at me.

"I said maybe young lady, and no running in the house and wear a dress."

It takes me a minute to reach the third floor of the house, I slam the door and turn my stereo on to the Kaiser Chiefs Off With Their Heads CD. I decided against a shower for my hair wouldn't dry in time. I stuck some pins in my unruly hair to keep it out of my way. I picked out a blue summer dress with yellow cornflowers on it, knowing mother would approve. Mrs. Tabbot, the old spinster, would wrinkle her nose n distaste if I wore jeans or even a mini skirt , her hinting at the fact that she thought you a whore. With a little make up, I was good to go.

I turned the CD to the Silversun Pickups "Swoon" to help me occupy myself for the next forty minutes. I looked into my mirror. I was pretty but nothing special. I had never had a boyfriend for my parents had forbade me to date an Indian while their were no other boys my age. And anyways I was much to mannish in appearance I had a boys slight muscled arms. My interest in cars would make boys and men feel inferior, it already did with the mechanics I bought parts off of. But it's not my fault that engines fascinate me. Even if i like working on cars and am not much of a dreamer, I still want to find my true love. He would be perfect, he would like listening to me talk of cars even if he didn't know to much about them, have a good sense of humor and love music. A straight nose with a dusting of freckles set on sun bronzed skin, a strong jaw, tall and kind. That is all favored in a husband but he must have dark curly hair. I had a thing for dark curly hair. The last note of the CD starts to fade out.

"Gemma, hurry up, darling." Mothers voice frosty, which meant me asking for that part without apologizing for our arguemnet hadmade her even more mad though she had not shown her anger when I asked. I wasn't geting the manifold, no matter how I acted.

We walked slowly through the market place, Sarita and mother debating the price of fruits and other non interesting items. Mrs. Tabbots house almost two miles away, but mother refused to allow me to drive. And the already deadly hot Indian heat growing hotter.

"So, Gemma, what do you want for your birthday?" She was trying to be nice she wasn't mad at me, but at grandmama for calling and asking to bring me to England so I could go to school there. I would love to go but mother will not allow it even Father cannot get her to back down from her decision.

"Well, mother, I would love a dual point distributor for my car or you could allow me to go to England, but just until school starts and I'll come back home." I kept my fingers crossed hoping she didn't know what that item was, knowing I would get no where with my England case.

"Hmm, well your father and I'll discuss the distributer." It was a no plain and simple.

"Whatever mother, both you and I know you'll say no so just come out and friggin' say it." Great my ass was grass mother hates it when I say friggin' and freakin' swearing was not allowed.

"Gemma watch your language and I didn't say that. Why are you being so disagreeable?"

"Oh, so now it's my fault." It seems to be getting hotter. Flies were buzzing in my face annoying me as much as her question had.

"Look mem sahib, let us bring these to your father."Sarita urged me to look at the fruit help in her hands, trying desperately to stop the bickering that would continue.

"Father would just stain his suit."

"Gemma, really, I'd rather you stop working on those cars of yours, it's very unfeminine."

"So, your point is?"

"You'll never get a husband and other girls are not interested in cars, at all." It was another way of her telling me to be normal, but I loved it and so I would continue to do it to make her mad and me happy. I didn't say anything back, ignoring her for all I was worth; which was quite a bit. And anyways my being in love with cars was her fault. I f she had signed the stupid schedule form for school I would have been in Medical Terminology but instead I was put in Shop class. It was horrible at first the boys were mean and I knew nothing but I learned it fast.

Mother picked up a mask from a nearby vendor. It was an old game of ours.

"Who am I Gemma?" she asked from behind a beaded harlequin mask.

"You are my mother nothing more or less." She frowns for I have ruined her game.

"Must be such a spoil sport, dear?" As she asked me a man runs right into her, almost knocking them both to the ground. A young boy, around my age, stands behind the man. His dark curly hair catches my attention but his big dark eyes hold my gaze.

"So sorry ma'am, didn't mean to." Sarita scolds him telling the man to wach where he is going. The man as he turns to leave leans in close to mother and whispers words that make her go pale.

"Circe is here." Mother frantically looks around her and when we both look back towards the man he is gone.

So, please tell me if there is anything wrong. Hope you enjoy.

To those who have read my other stories volleyball is finally over so I did have more time but I just bought a 1966 mustang and it needs a bit of work so be patient I will update I haven't forgotten.


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